


Poor Reception

by purple_minnow



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M, Pre-War Cybertron, Proteus is a jerk, Ratbat just wants to get his work done, Senator shenanigans, slight warning for dub-con neck massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 22:51:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11450730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_minnow/pseuds/purple_minnow
Summary: "I have always liked your bitty little audio receptors, you know. They're awfully...cute."Senator Proteus is determined to show a certain part of Senator Ratbat's helm some appreciation—whether Ratbat wants him to or not.





	Poor Reception

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm hoping this fic will be part of a longer series of oneshots focusing on Proteus pursuing Ratbat, personally and professionally, with varying degrees of success. ;D For now, this fic falls somewhere towards the beginning of that overarching storyline.

"Hmm, I'm still not entirely convinced that the rules for the corporation tax proposal are only allowing for the _right_ loopholes. I feel like it wouldn't hurt to run this by someone with a stronger regulations background than us." Senator Proteus tapped his lip-plates thoughtfully, considering the datapad in his hand. "Also, I've been wondering...is your helm just naturally like that, or is there a trace of beastformer in your base coding?"

The rude digression was so unexpected that Senator Ratbat initially failed to react with anything other than genuine bafflement. "Excuse me?"

"Your helm," Senator Proteus clarified, looking up and gesturing at his own nobly crested visage as if to help make his meaning clear. "It's a touch bestial, is it not? I would have thought your house's lineage beyond reproach, but then again one never knows what impurities can slip in, especially amongst a house's more distant branches."

Ratbat glared furiously, trying to contain his temper. Cybertronians with beast alt-modes were little better than Disposables. That Proteus would dare imply his noble house was tainted by _animals_!

 The smaller senator forced himself to take a calming invent. This didn't matter, and he would only make a fool of himself by rising to the bait. If Proteus had really wanted to humiliate Ratbat, then they would be having this exchange in public rather than Proteus lavish apartment. So then the older senator just wanted to tease. Delightful. However, Ratbat did not feel like playing. He just wanted to get this legislation reviewed and go home, not endure Proteus's callous games—or any more intimate overtures.

"There is no beastformer CNA in my lineage," Ratbat finally snapped back. Despite its unfortunately animal-like qualities, Ratbat had always liked his helm just fine. The deep purple upper and lower 'jaws' framed his pale faceplates in a pleasantly striking fashion, and the way his primary audio receptors perked up like vaguely feline ears had a nice effect.

"If you're sure."

"Quite," Ratbat bit back.

"How terribly rude of me then, leaping to conclusions," Proteus demurred, but his amused expression was entirely at odds with his contrite tone of voice. "I do hope I've not offended you."

Ratbat refused to dignify that with a response. "If you want to take a break, then just say so."

Proteus grinned. "Perhaps I do. It is late after all." He stood from his comfortable seat on the other side of the low table and stretched luxuriously, attractive and brightly painted plating shifting as he moved. Ratbat pointedly did _not_ stare. No need to throw fuel on this fire.

After a moment, Proteus circled around behind him (of course), but Ratbat stubbornly kept his attention on his datapad. This was just another one of Proteus's games. Ratbat would ignore it and focus on the work.

Even though he half expected it, a fleeting touch along the tip of an audio receptor still made Ratbat start a little, but he stayed seated and refused to turn around.

"I have always liked your bitty little audio receptors, you know. They're awfully...cute," Proteus purred appreciatively. "Well," he amended, "as much as someone with your level of prickliness can be considered cute."

Ratbat's engine stifled an annoyed little growl. He wasn't sure if it was from the implied slight or from being called 'cute' in the first place.

Proteus heard regardless and chuckled. "So sorry," he replied, not sounding sorry in the slightest. "Have I offended you again? I really must make it up to you."

"That's not necessary—" Ratbat attempted to stand and move away, but Proteus was apparently having none of it. Ratbat's receptors were sensitive, and a well-timed warning pinch proved sufficient to keep the smaller senator in his seat.

"Oh, but I insist."

The sting quickly faded beneath more gentle touches, the pads of Proteus's digits stroking the delicate metal, his thumb rubbing gently at the audio receptors's pointed tip. That...felt really good actually. Ratbat struggled not to react, lip-plates pursed in an unhappy line and servos clenching the datapad almost hard enough to dent. He wasn't quite able to stifle a sudden invent as the touches grew firmer, but Proteus didn't mock him for it. Regardless, Ratbat was certain the other politician was smirking—though at least in this position, he didn't have to see it.

Proteus applied both servos now, not just to Ratbat's receptors but to the back of his helm as well, nimble digits pressing against and stroking the lines of transformation seams. When Proteus's touch crept further down to massage tense neck cabling, Ratbat gave up even his token resistance, setting aside his datapad and leaning back, allowing Proteus to do as he pleased.

Proteus hummed softly, a contented sound. Still he did not say anything though, and Ratbat found that, without the other's snide commentary, this interaction was almost...pleasant.

The massage continued for nearly a breem, enough time for Ratbat's expression to smooth out and his plating to stop twitching every time Proteus encountered a sore spot—indeed enough time for the sore spots to be soothed away altogether. At last Proteus disengaged with one final flourish, sweeping the backs of his servos up along Ratbat's neck and tweaking one audio receptor in farewell.

"Better?" Proteus asked, smiling innocently as he circled back around the couch.

Ratbat shifted his helm experimentally from side to side. "Yes," he admitted though not without some reluctance.

"Excellent. Always glad to be of assistance to an esteemed colleague." Proteus beamed, all cheerful professionalism once again. However, instead of returning to his seat on the other side of the table, he seated himself on the couch next to Ratbat.

Ratbat's expression flickered in irritation, but he resolved to ignore the new seating arrangement. He had already been dragged into Proteus's games enough for one night.

However, Proteus seemed to be once more on his best behavior: his expression was genial and professional and while the seating arrangement was rather _un_ professional considering the amount of empty seats available, there was a perfectly reasonable amount of space between their frames.

Slender servos picked up one of the discarded datapads, and Proteus angled it so that Ratbat could read it without having to lean too close. "Now, Senator, about this proposal... Shall we resume?"

"Of course," Ratbat agreed, glancing down at the paragraph where they'd left off while determinedly keeping some distance between them.

**Author's Note:**

> The important thing to take away from this story is that Proteus thinks Ratbat is super cute. :P


End file.
